Gendrya Ship Week 2016
by Anomnomnomymiss
Summary: Same as Gendrya Ship Week 2k16 in Game of Thrones Section. Schedule: July 24-30; Jealousy, Protect, You'll Be Back, Whisper, Laughter, Command, I Know Him, respectfully. A little behind schedule, but ya know, life gets in the way. Cred to GRR Martin for characters and backstory.
1. Chapter 1: Jealousy

**Gendrya Ship Week Day 1-Jealousy**

* * *

 **Gendry**

Arya was laughing and talking with some people she met before and during the wars. Not one of them being her family members or girls. Half the Brotherhood was there, along with a few former members of the Night's Watch and some highborns.

Gendry was annoyed.

He hadn't been able to speak to her privately since they got back to Winterfell. He fought alongside her brother (or cousin, apparently) and their queen, been named Lord Baratheon, and saved her life not once but twice, and yet apparently she was too busy with a bunch of men who were drooling over her.

Maybe that's why he was angry.

None of them had known Arya as long as he had. None of them really knew her as well as Gendry did, over that first year of learning to trust one another after being abandoned and forgotten by everyone whom ever knew them. None of them could understand the things she went through unless they were by her side that whole time.

A few of the men laughed. Gendry huffed. He couldn't wait any longer.

Pushing himself up from the well he was sitting on, he made his way over to where the group stood.

"-now that Winterfell is once again held by Starks, my lady?" some highborn ass said, smiling down at her like she was prey who didn't know they'd been spotted.

Arya didn't hesitate. "I'm staying here," she answered firmly. "Where else would I go, back to King's Landing?" She scoffed at the thought.

Harwin shook his head, chuckling. "You can't stick around here your whole life, little wolf."

"Watch me," she challenged, glaring at him.

Many of the men laughed openly at that. One of the black brothers looked at her sheepishly. "You have to get married at some point."

"To whom? I'll kill whoever tries."

Gendry finally spoke up. "You're going to have a long list of people to kill again then, m'lady."

A few of the men standing in the scattered circle bowed their heads in respect, muttering 'my lord's, some just openly glared, but Arya regarded him openly. "I'll never be shoved in some castle to father some babes for a stupid lord, my lord," she teased, grinning widely.

"Well then, I guess your crowd is out of luck!" Gendry looked around at the group. "I assume you have some repairs to be working on? King Jon did ask you to assist Lord Stark with the rebuilding, did he not?"

More glares. Even Lem shot him a look. But eventually they walked, or stormed off. Most of them.

"Looks like you chased them off pretty well, m'lord," a sellsword said, staring at there retreating backs. "If only you were that good on the battlefield."

Gentry gave him a scathing look. That went unnoticed. "Bronn?"

"Yeah?" He looked over.

"Go away."

Bronn gave both him and Arya a glance. "Well by all means, don't start fucking while I'm standing here." He walked off towards the castle, leaving Gendry spluttering behind him.

Arya looked at him quickly out of the corner of her eye. "Well?"

His eyes widened.

She punched him. "Not that, stupid!" She glared at him harder when he barely even reacted to her usual behavior. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Who says I wanted to talk about anything?"

"Me." Gendry raised his eyebrows. "You did chase them all off for a reason, right?"

He tried to focus on the blood not rushing to his face. "They seemed to be annoying you."

"They seemed to be annoying you more."

"No they weren't," he lied easily.

She squinted at him. "You're a terrible liar. It's a good thing your handsome." And with that she strutted off towards the castle, her lips twitching.

Gendry's mouth was open in shock. He stared after her until she officially was out of sight. Then he shook his head and turned away, grinning.

Harwin was a few feet away laughing. "You might want to get that little lady fast, I hear there's a whole line behind ya."

Gendry kept smiling. "None of them will get past me."

* * *

 **Ok so I posted this on my Tumblr, then decided I might want to write some long chapters later that would be ridiculous on said Tumblr, so yeah. Changed a bit of it, because proofreading is a bitch when posting on Tumblr, a lot easier here. Gendrya is my OTP, so I can't miss out on their ship week. Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2: Protect

**So here's the next day, because I'm behind and stuff. c: I can dream of catching up, but that doesn't mean I'm going to figure out an idea for the next one (You'll Be Back). All I can think of is Terminator. Cereally. But anyways, here's:**

 **Day 2-Protect**

* * *

Arya

The battle raged around them. Screams of both terror and despair occupied the night air, the ringing of swords clashing seemed to rip the world apart. Bodies littered the ground, catching her feet, making it harder to move quickly. Time was meaningless; it could have been a minute or a day since the battle had started. The wights kept coming.

Gendry fought be her side. They had trained together during their second journey from King's Landing to the north. They knew each others' styles, moves, tells. She didn't trust anyone else by her side as much as he.

One wight came from behind Gendry, one arm gone with the other raised with a battle axe in hand. Needle quickly disposed of him.

She could feel her battle instincts kicking in. She could hear Syrio Forel chanting to her. _Quiet as a shadow. Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords._

Another charged her left side. Gendry swung up with his war hammer and the dead went flying.

An arrow whizzed by two inches from her face. Leaving no time to think another wight charged with a two-handed sword. His face decayed, not all bones like so many of the others. One eye had melted half out of it's socket. The other focused on her with it's crystal blue orb.

She ducked under his first swing and parried another, letting it slide off the edge of Needle. _Swift as a deer._ She jabbed quickly at his chest, then dodge another swipe. _Quick as a snake._

They're plan was to send in a wave of swords, hack off as many limbs as possible. The second wave would attack with fire. It worked at the Battle for Wolfswood better than expected. But now, in open fields, it appeared to be less effective. Jon had charged her with keeping the east clear of the undead. She couldn't fail now. Not with everything being at stake.

Gendry yelled "Duck!" and she followed the order. _Fierce as a wolverine._ He slammed his hammer into the wight and it flew off into the air. _Strong as a bear._

"Thanks," she breathed, already looking for another enemy. She stepped over one of her comrade's severed head.

Another arrow flew by, this one lit on fire, and coming from the other direction. The second wave had moved in.

A man ran by, screaming in terror as a body lumbered towards him, an axe buried in his side. An arrow pierced the back of his head. _The man who fears losing has already lost._

More infinite moments whisked by, filled with horrific images. None of it phased her. None of it mattered. She had seen worse.

Shouts, cries, pleas rang out around her. She couldn't tell who was winning. She pressed deeper into the fray. Gendry followed.

Their lines were scattered, both the wights and her allies. Banners stuck up every once and a while, refusing to die. She set her eyes on a Tully fish waving above the mass, before it was taken down in a mob of dead.

Arya retreated a step, her back against Gendry's. "Where?" he asked, shouted in desperation. He wasn't scared for himself, Arya knew; he was worried for her.

She quickly swept the field with her eyes, spotting a group of men attempting to regroup. They were being surrounded and slaughtered.

"Follow me!" She hoped he heard as she charged past mountains of bodies, friends and foes.

She ran. She dodged. She killed. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._ She moved faster. A few of her men started running, the wrong direction. She grabbed one of their chainmails and pulled him along with them. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._ She kept moving, Gendry by her side, covering her back and everywhere she couldn't be. He would never run.

They reached the group and renewed the battle. Hopeless screams were whipped away by the wind.

An archer stood on the hill, teeth rotting from his head. His bow was taunt, then it wasn't. Another man taken down, shortening their numbers. He reached back, grabbing another arrow to volley into their midst.

Arya turned, arm reaching out.

She saw a look of horror on Gendry's face. His arms reached out as well, but to catch her, to stop her fall to the earth.

Two more screams joined the rest. Gendry's was one of them. The other, she wasn't sure. It sounded like a girl's.

* * *

She woke up greeted by darkness. A candle was on the table beside her, giving her a glimpse into the tent. A dark figure was at the foot of her bed, slumped in a chair.

"Gendry?" she asked, and he startled awake, meeting her eyes quickly.

His face broke into a grin. "You look like shit, m'lady."

She stuck out her tongue, then pushed herself into a sitting position. Until she fell backwards, groaning.

Gendry shot forward, reaching out to grab her, help her. "Are you alright?" His eyebrows were knit together.

"I'm fine, stupid." She pushed him away lightly, then propped her arms up behind her. She heaved herself forward, not making any more progress than before. Gendry rolled his eyes then wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a sitting position.

"Stubborn bull," she mumbled, but didn't protest anymore than that. It wouldn't get her anywhere.

He let her go and pulled the chair closer to the edge of her bed. "What in seven hells were you thinking?"

Arya glared at him. "There was an arrow."

"So?"

"So I jumped in front of it."

"That's not what you're suppose to do when an arrow is coming at ya."

"You could just say thank you," Arya retorted, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed and grimacing.

Gendry didn't look convinced. "I can take a few more hits than you."

"And what makes you say that?" She wasn't going to let him get away with that.

"I am three times your size, therefore I can take three times the hits." He smiled smugly at her. _Cheeky arse._

"Well next time, maybe I will let it hit you." With that she slid off the bed, and promptly collapsed to the ground, clutching her side. A wave of pain washed over her.

"Dammit, Arry!" Gendry looped one of his arms under hers. And then the other under her legs.

She hit his chest, her side screaming in protest. "Put me down!"

He just grinned at her. "Or what?"

"Or I'll shoot you myself!" She punched his chest a few more times ignoring the pain, but he didn't even react. "I swear it by the old gods and the new, Gendry, I will-"

"Okay, gods!" He laid her back on the bed. "Don't try and get up again then." This time he sat on the edge of her bed. He took a deep breath. "Now tell me why I couldn't just take that arrow."

Arya bit her lip. "I didn't-" she stopped. She tried again. "I'm tired of losing people." He looked at her, eyebrows scrunched together. She needed him to understand, but she didn't know how. She flashed back to a moment four years ago, one that changed her whole life. "I told you that I could be your family. Did you think I was lying?"

Gendry's face changed. His eyes averted. He looked guilty. Ashamed.

Arya rushed on. "I don't blame you, stupid. I was just some little girl then. I thought that if I got back to my mother and brother it would solve everything. I thought that I could finally have everything." She looked down at the bed, studying the pattern on the covers. "I was being stupid then too. Like one of Sansa's stories."

Arya looked up at him. He wasn't looking back still. She reached out, grabbing his arm. "But I still don't want to lose you."

Gendry looked up at her. "I shouldn't have left you like that. I thought that-" he cut off suddenly, looking anxious.

"Thought what?" she asked, curious.

He ran his fingers through his hair, nervous. "I thought that if I did go back with you, that—that we'd never see each other."

Arya's eyebrows lowered. "Why would you think that? I told you that I'm not some lady that would ditch you."

He met her eyes again. They were dark, but hopeful. A small smile played on his lips. "I know that. But your mother, from what you said. . . I mean, I never would have had a chance-" He cut off again, eyes widening. "Not like—I wouldn't—I-"

Her mouth had popped open. He was still talking, still stuttering over his words, trying to take it back, trying not to. The whole time his eyes aimed at the fur blanket in front of her.

Arya reached higher on his arm, grabbing his shoulder. He stopped, neck flushed. His blue eyes met her gray's again. Still hopeful.

"Gendry," she breathed. "I don't care where you came from. I care about who _you_ are, not your parents. You should think the same."

They stared at each other for another second. Hesitant for him, nervous for her. Then he leaned in.

She had never kissed anyone before. No one but her siblings or parents cheek or forehead. This was a lot different.

The world spun around her. But there was nothing else in the world but them. The tent could have collapsed, the White Walkers overrunning the country, and she would still be here, with him.

His mouth opened slightly, and she copied him. He gently grabbed her bottom lip with his teeth, tugging slightly.

Then he pulled away. Her eyes were still closed. Her breathing heavy.

When she opened them, she found him staring at her intently. No, not intently. Worried. Worried he'd overstepped. That he'd misread.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "It's not my place to-"

Arya grabbed his neck and pulled him back in. Biting his lip like he did to hers. He groaned, wrapping his hands around her waist. She groaned as well and he pulled away again.

"Shit, I forgot, sorry," his eyes darted around her face, in a frenzy.

Arya laughed at his panic, her side aching again. "Don't be so stupid next time." She shoved him lightly.

Gendry grinned a little, his face lit up. "Don't try and protect me next time," he countered.

"I'll always protect you," Arya said. "You're family."

* * *

 **Little Arya growing up :'D She's like 17 by this point in the show. She was 16 last season. What happened to tiny awkward Maisie Williams, seriously? She is perf for Arya's character though.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Comment below, somewhere down there. I'm sure you'll find that comment button with my wonderful directions.**

 **vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv**


	3. Chapter 3: You'll Be Back

**So this just kind of happened. First attempt at a crack fic, if that's not your thing move past this chapter.**

* * *

Gendry

"Okay Gendry, I'm going to get some popcorn," Arya said, grabbing him by both of his shoulders and talking slowly. "Pick out some mac and cheese that you like."

Gendry rolled his eyes and swatted her hands away. "I think I can figure it out."

She grinned up at him. "Hurry up, we need to get this movie night kicked off." She pushed up on her toes, and he leaned down to meet her kiss. "I'll be right back."

He turned towards the macaroni as she started walking away. Then he realized just how many options Wegman's had.

He never went to this store. For gods sake, it was _four_ floors. Who needed that much space for food?

But Arya was used to this place, as it was just about the only place her family went. Her mother was a health nut, as well as Sansa and Robb. That, and the fact that it was only two miles from their home, made this the perfect place for the Starks. And the fact that they could afford it.

He scanned the shelves again. _What in seven hells is the point of gourmet mac and cheese?_

He turned around, looking for Arya to ask what she likes, and finds her already gone.

 _I don't need my girlfriend to tell me what to get_ , he thinks, looking at the intimidating amount of noodles in front of him. _I can pick food_.

He squinted at one of the labels on the glass. 'Gluten Free Noodles'. He stared it down like it was in Chinese.

One of the associates apparently saw his struggle. "Do you need help with anything, sir?"

He suddenly realized how close to the glass he was and coughed loudly. _They should put a siren on these people_. "No, nothing, thank you."

She looked him up and down, as if in disbelief, and walked off.

Gendry turned back to the row of food, glaring at it like it was it's fault. He didn't need some anxiety inducing sales rep judging him for being in a store he'd never set foot in. Fuck.

Gendry threw his hands up, resigned. He had to find Arya. But Gendry had no idea where the fuck they put popcorn in this gods forsaken store.

He walked in the direction he thought Arya went.

Within minutes he was consumed by the store. He headed up one escalator, thinking he saw a sign for snacks. All he found there was cakes and cookies, as the sign revealed the word 'baked' in front of it. He cursed as he headed back down, then realized that he had no idea what floor he was on anymore. He started on the third. . . or was it the second? Did he just go down one or two?

He had no idea where he was at all.

There is no way he was lost in this store. He whirled around, walking back the way he came. He couldn't even see anything familiar.

The macaroni was out of sight. The popcorn was nowhere close. All the tables and areas looked the same. This one apparently containing fruits. Like, a lot more fruits than he could even imagine. Why were there so many types of apples? Who needed that much variety? He grew up glad if he got a ripe one.

He turned to go back to the escalators, determined to find the macaroni area again. Arya said she would be back. _Now where did they move those fucking escalators to?_

Dammit he was lost. He was as lost as he could possibly be, in a store that was bigger then the town he grew up in. _Why for fucks sake do rich people need these fucking stores to show how gods damned better they are than everyone_ -

Apparently someone noticed his problem. "Sir, are you alright-"

He whipped around. "What the fuck do you think?"

The young woman looked at him, mouth open. Her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't-"

"You didn't what? You didn't fucking think? You people are like fucking piranhas. First I lose my girlfriend, who I was just trying to have a relaxing movie night with, then I lose the macaroni, which I swear you're moving around this fucking mega-mall of a shit hole you call a store, and _now_ I have to talk to people like you, who think that they are fucking gods that walk the earth that get off asking confused people like me if I can fucking handle walking around _in a fucking store_."

The blonde looked at him for another second. Then a single tear fell down her face. Then the water works started. She covered her face in her hands, sobbing loudly. One of her coworkers saw her and tried comforting her. "Myrcella, calm down-" People looked over at him. One old man looked up, pointed a trembling finger at him and shook his head.

 _Fucking fuckidy fuck. FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK._

He turned away and just about sprinted in the opposite direction of the girl.

He found an elevator and jumped in. Apparently he was now on the first floor. He jabbed at the 'Close Door' button with his finger repetitively. A big man was walking towards the elevators as the door closed. He started saying "hold door". The door closed.

 _Well, I'm a complete ass_ , he thought, looking at his options on the elevator panel. Apparently he was on the first floor now. Taking a wild guess, he hit the 3, hoping he could finally find the damn noodles.

The elevator moved upwards. _Listen_ , he thought, _just get me back to the mac and cheese and I'll never do shit like that again, okay?_

The doors opened. He walked out briskly, hoping that security wasn't on its way for cussing out some innocent store clerk. He still couldn't believe he lost it like that. _Lord of Light, please let this be the right floor._

He looked over and saw cakes. He recognized them, even. But he knew it wasn't the right floor. He looked up at the ceiling. _What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?_

Two guys walked over, one with scars covering the left side of his face, the other with black hair. Their vests showed some sort of patch. Security.

"Come with us," the black haired one said, with some creepy glint in his eye.

Gendry looked at both the men. The scarred one looked like he was bored out of his mind.

"Look," he started, panicking a little. Maybe more than just a little. "I—I just—" he looked down at the floor. "I just wanted some macaroni." And with that he promptly fell to the floor, crying.

"Oh for fucks sake, the Lannisters don't pay me for this shit." The scarred security guard stepped over Gendry's head, took off his vest, dropped it on a fruit pie, and walked towards the escalators.

"What the fuck, dog?" the other guard yelled at him.

"Piss on it, Trant!" He said the man's name like a cuss word.

Trant stared after the other guard. Then looked down at Gendry sobbing on the floor uncomfortably.

He kicked him with the toe of his boot. "Get up."

Gendry ignored him and curled into a ball. He just wanted a peaceful night with his girlfriend. Now what did he have? Heap loads of anxiety, no girlfriend, and no damn macaroni.

The guard grabbed his arm and hefted him to his feet, grunting. "What the hell is wrong with you, you giant bastard?"

He all but dragged Gendry to the elevator, and hit the first button. An old woman was already in the small room.

"Is this man hurting you?" the woman asked, concerned.

Gendry looked over at Trant, then back at the woman. He then nodded his head twice.

They exited the elevator with the woman hitting the security guard over the head with her hand bag, Trant cussing as he tried to get away, leaving Gendry behind.

Gendry wandered around the floor, completely done. The world had condemned him.

Some woman walked up, clearly the manager from the name tag she had pinned on her chest, trailed by the security guy, who apparently got away from the old woman. "Is this him?" she asked.

The guard nodded, glaring furiously at Gendry. How do you glare at someone wiping away tears?

The man grabbed his arm, directing him to follow the woman into a side room, that must have been an office. A wine glass sat on the desk cluttered with bills, a computer that must have been from the 2000's, and a solitary microphone wired into the wall with an exposed cable.

The Trant man left, closing the door behind him with a slam. In Gendry's opinion, he should have quit with the other man.

The woman sat behind the desk and aimed a smirk at him that made Gendry feel she enjoyed watching the world burn. Her blonde hair reminded him of someone else he saw. . .

"Name?" she asked as if the word could kill her.

Gendry didn't like this chick. "My name is—is Gendry," he sniffled out.

She reached for the microphone on her desk. "Attention, shoppers. There is a Gendry Waters in the front office. I repeat, there is a Gendry Waters in the front office." She traded the mic for the wine glass, taking a generous amount of it into her body.

It only took a few minutes for his girlfriend to show up.

"Gendry, where have you—the fuck happened to you?" Arya stared at him gaping.

He ran over to her and hugged her. Tightly. "So. Many. Noodles." She hesitated before hugging him back.

The woman behind the counter didn't let up, now directing her attack at Arya. "This man yelled at my daughter like some kind of savage. I've already called the police."

"You _what?_ " Arya let go of Gendry and fixed her hard gaze on the older woman.

Her fake bitch smile was still plastered on her face. "I let them know that a man was terrorizing my clients. They should be here any minute."

"That's overreacting."

"That's life." The woman placed her hands on the desk, standing up and leaning over it. "When you play the game of business you win or you get arrested."

* * *

When the police showed up, Arya sorted it all out. Apparently she had connections, as she always was getting Rickon out of the slammer. Gendry just sat in his car, holding his head in his hands. He done fucked up.

Eventually Arya pulled open the car door and sat in the passenger seat, slamming it behind her. Gendry didn't look up, but could feel her eyes.

"Well?" she asked. "Gonna explain why you made a sixteen year old girl cry?"

He shook his head, still covering his eyes with his hands. Both arms followed the motion.

"What about making the security guard quit?"

Gendry repeated the motion.

Arya huffed and yanked his arms away from his head. "Would you look at me?" she yelled. "I just talked you out of jail, for gods sake!" She glared at him hard. "I said I'd be right back."

He looked over at her. "Is the movie night still on?"

She slammed a hand on the dashboard. "What kind of question is that?" He didn't answer, looking out the window at the flashing cop cars. Arya sighed. "Of course the movie night's still on."

* * *

 **So... that happened. Couldn't think of anything, thought that I try this. Maybe it worked? Never written a crack fic before, but I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Next up: Whisper. Back to a future fanfic for that one.**


	4. Chapter 4: Whisper

**I lied. Schedules are for people who have free time.**

* * *

Arya

Arya rolled off of him with a content sigh.

Gendry looked over at her with a bemused expression. "Better?"

She smiled back, blissful. "Better," she agreed.

He slowly leaned over and captured her lips again. When she bit down on his bottom one he let out a groan.

She smacked his arm lightly, shushing him. "Be quiet! Do you want the whole castle to hear?"

Gendry quickly ran his fingers through his already messed up hair. Then he had the nerve to roll his eyes. "Bran already knows. Sansa already knows. Half the staff most like, from the way you moan when you're close to-"

She pulled his face in again, effectively quieting him. When they parted she grinned wolfishly. "You know you like it when I do."

He matched her expression. "Never said I didn't, m'lady."

She sighed, facing the ceiling again. "I'm tired of hiding this."

He didn't respond. Arya knew he felt the same. It had been four moons since she returned to Winterfell with Gendry Baratheon at her side. Bran found out within a fortnight, seeing them together in her chambers when he tried to surprise her with a gift. Sansa had been blind to it all, until Gendry got a little too hands on one day at the forge. Rumors were starting to spread like wildfire, and nothing in the world could put them out.

"We'll figure something out," Gendry whispered in her ear. "We always have." He bit her lobe.

She groaned. She really loved it when he did that.

The tourney was the queen's idea. Bringing all of the seven kingdoms together to encourage rebuilding and friendship. What it really meant was a bunch of drunk men staggering around, hitting on anything with a pair of tits. Even the goats weren't safe.

Gendry kept his distance, glancing over at her every once in a while sneakily. Or what he thought was sneaky; he was literally one of the least stealthiest people she had ever met, right up there with the Mountain and Brienne of Tarth. At least Brienne could keep composure in most situations, except when Jaime was around.

The tourney lasted well into the night. Torches lit up Winterfell's towers and walls, illuminating the makeshift jousting arena. For being put up in two days, it wasn't that bad.

Jon stayed out of the tourney; his brother, Aegon, did not.

Aegon had been eyeing Arya for most of the night, unrelentingly. His eyes had followed her across the stands, in the dress that Sansa had forced her to wear since it was a gift from Daenerys, and to her seat, a few rows above Gendry.

Her blacksmith had been busy since the queen's men arrived a week before the tourney started. Weapons, armor, shields, lances. The work didn't seem to end for him. And as Winterfell was as full as could be with lords and ladies, he couldn't sneak into the castle to see her. All this thing was to Arya was a nuisance.

Aegon made it to the final joust. He wore no favor, surprisingly, but the way he kept looking at Arya made her want to run and hide. She could tell Gendry had noticed it as well, as she could see the muscles tensed in his back, head directed at the white destrier the prince strattled.

Across the field from him, Ned Dayne rode a sand steed that he had brought all the way from Dorne. Arya knew that Gendry still wasn't fond of him. In fact, she was pretty sure he was jealous of the young lord.

The horn sounded, and the two men charged on their horses. Aegon's armor glinted like silver in the sunlight as he passed.

Arya heard the sound of crumpled metal. And then the horses were past each other, one without a rider. Edric was on the ground, clutching his side. Aegon wheeled his horse, and returned to the middle at a trot.

"A winner!" the herald announced. "Aegon Targaryen, Lord of Dragonstone!"

"Oh for the love of gods," Arya complained.

Aegon looked over, his eyes catching hers. A crown was placed in his hand, one made of flowers.

Ignoring Ned in the dirt, the prince cantered leisurely towards the stands, and slowly turned his horse sideways. _No_. His purple eyes met her gray's. _Not again_. He tossed the crown and it hit its mark. She looked down at the blue winter roses sitting in her lap as the crowd fell silent.

Her mouth was parted slightly. Her lips were dry. Her dress was too tight, as if keeping her restrained to her seat. Bran was gaping on her left, Sansa mimicking him on her right.

Gendry stood in front of her. He was going to start a fight. He was going to kill or be killed.

Arya stood up, the roses sliding from her lap. She slid out of the stands, moving to the front as quickly as possible. Quicker than Gendry.

"Do you think you can just claim me?" she spoke, her voice low. Threatening.

Aegon smiled back at her, charming as ever. "Of course not, my lady," he replied, as if they were having a normal conversation. "But you are the Queen of Love and Beauty, and have stole my heart."

Arya closed her eyes and counted to three. When she opened them, he was still there. And she had an idea. A stupid one. A naive one. But a plan all the same.

"I deny that," she spoke louder.

His eyebrows rose. "But it is true, Lady Arya. No one can deny it."

"I can." She took a step forward, glad the stands were raised enough that she didn't have to look up, even with him still on his horse. "You can't crown me because you haven't face all of your opponents."

His eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious. "What other challengers are there?"

She straightened. "Me."

A rumble broke through the crowd. Then a few laughs. Then more. Arya tuned it out, focusing on the man in front of her, who looked like he might join them.

"I will not joust a lady," Aegon stated with a hint of stubbornness underneath layers of .

"Then that will make it a lot easier for me. A nonmoving target is easier to hit than a moving one, I hear."

More laughs broke out. Some weren't even directed at her.

Aegon flushed. Arya knew he didn't take insults well. They were alike in that manner, at least, before Braavos.

"Do you deny your challenger?" she asked. "Are you afraid to face me?"

The Targaryen sighed. "If you are so intent on being put in your place, so be it. But what shall I get out of this?"

"If you win, I'll marry you."

Arya could hear Sansa gasp. Bran's disbelief. Ned Dayne's outright shout of protest. But it was the sound she didn't hear that scared her more.

Gendry remained silent.

Aegon's grin grew wider. "And if you win?"

Arya shook her hair out of her eyes, meeting his. "You never bother me again. No marriage, no courting, I don't even want to hear your voice."

His eyes narrowed again, and for a moment she could see something else behind them. Something that must have been in his grandfather's eyes as well. "I accept."

"Swear it."

He didn't hesitate. "I swear it by the old gods and the new."

Arya repeated the line and turned away, finally looking back at Gendry. He was stonefaced. "My armor is ready, yes?"

He nodded, emotionless. He started walking back towards the forge.

One of Bran's squires was nearby. "You, get me some riding breaches and a tunic. Bring them to the forge." The boy nodded and took off towards the castle doors. Then Arya followed Gendry out.

"What in seven hells were you thinking?" Gendry asked, seething. Apparently he forgot that he worshiped the Lord of Light.

"I was thinking that I found a way to get rid of that arse forever!" Arya retorted. "Do you think I want him ripping my clothes off with his eyes every time I walk into the same fucking room as him?"

Gendry continued pacing around the forge, fuming. When he turned back towards her he looked her directly in the face. "Are you that willing to get away from me?"

Arya blanched. "Do you think I _fancy_ him?" The smith didn't respond, averting his eyes. "Oh for for the love of gods, Gendry! I'm trying to get rid of the cunt!" He still didn't look at her. "Listen, I-"

"My lady, your clothes." The squire had arrived, standing in the entryway behind Gendry.

Arya forced a smile. "Thank you, Brynden." As soon as she took the breeches and tunic, the boy ran off, probably sensing the tension in the room. It wasn't as if it was very subtle that Gendry's back was tensed and his hands clenched.

She walked over to him, putting a hand on his back, another on his arm, turning him towards her. She pulled his face down, forcing him to look at her.

His eyes were dark, angry. She pulled him into a kiss, slow, but unyielding.

"Do you trust me?" Arya whispered when they pulled apart.

Gendry Baratheon still had his eyes closed. Took a deep breath. When he opened them Arya found that they had softened slightly.

"I trust you," he breathed. "But I don't trust him."

She grinned a little. "Neither do I."

Her stallion was a dappled gray, that shimmered in the snowy light. Her cloak billowed around her as she walked towards the horse, the Stark sigil rippling. Her armor shined; her smith had polished it just the night before.

Aegon's eyes scoured her frame mercilessly. "Are you sure about this, my lady?"

She nodded. "I'm not your lady."

His lips twitched. "Not yet."

She swung onto her horse gracefully. Her chestplate was light, thankfully. Brynden Tully handed Arya her helm, that resembled a wolf's head. Another gift from Gendry.

Aegon had already followed suit and galloped to the far end of the pitch.

The Tully handed her a shield. Next, a gray and white lance. She clamped it under her arm, raising it above her head in resting position.

The horn sounded. She kicked the horse's flanks, lowered her lance, and charged.

Her eyes focused on his lower chestpiece. If she could hit it just right. . .

Then they collided. Aegon's lance went askew, hitting her shield offcenter and sliding off of it. Arya's hit his side, bouncing away without any jostle from her opponent. _Damn him to the seventh hell_.

She reached the edge of the pitch and wheeled her dapple around the barrier. Another horn, another charge.

Arya's grip started failing. She wasn't used to using her right hand for anything. Her arm slipped low and below his arm. He found his mark.

She felt herself sliding back, with the force of the lance that pressed against her chest, then slid up and over her shoulder. The crowd gasped, and she could pick out Sansa's. The reins gripped in her shield hand yanked hard on her arm. Arya managed to stop her momentum. She swung her other arm up, attempting to regain balance and succeeding.

Sliding back into her saddle, she swung her steed around again. Even through his visor he could see his smirk.

Last run. If she didn't get a hit this time, voting would give it to him. This was her last chance.

Arya closed her eyes, blocking out the crowd's roar. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._ She felt her steed paw the ground beneath her. _Fear cuts deeper than swords_. The trumpet blared again. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._

She dug her heals in and flew forward. The air whipped her hair back, cloak flying out like wings behind her.

She had ridden horses all her life. Robb had taught her, and Jon had brought her on hunts after she turned six. Bran joined not long after. This was her element, not Aegon's. He spent most of his life on the run, on ships and in the free cities. Horses weren't common in the clustered alleyways. She wasn't going to be beat by someone who must have just started riding in Westeros for the past three years.

They met, the crunch and high pitched shriek of metal on metal filling the air.

Aegon's lance flew high, sliding against her helm and off the side when she leaned slightly away.

Arya's hit him lower, in the stomach. He inhaled. And flew backwards and away to the side.

The crowd was silent when he hit the dirt, back first, knocking the air out of him. Arya rode past, and dropped her lance to the side, astonished. Her plan was to win, yes, but that didn't mean that she was positive she would.

A grin broke out as she turned around and saw Aegon tried to regain breathing capabilities. Brynden Tully was running across the pitch towards her, grinning widely.

And then she saw Gendry, who was smiling brightly, shaking his head. Arya knew that he forgave her for her recklessness and rash thinking.

She took off her helm and handed it down the the excited boy. He was already going off about how amazing the tourney was, how great she did, until Arya finally just walked away towards the person lying on the ground.

The crowd was roaring, cheering. Unimportant.

Aegon struggled into a sitting position, taking his helm off and throwing ti away from him. His horse skittered at the end of the pitch, nervously.

"I want a rematch," he said, jabbing a finger in Arya's direction.

"I want you to keep your oath," she replied. Aegon closed his mouth and glared loathingly. So much for wanting her hand.

She turned away, grinning to herself. The tourney announcer had already proclaimed her win to the crowd, and received a resounding response. She looked over at him questioningly. "I do get to crown someone, do I not?"

He gave her a curious glance in return. Then talked to the person beside him in a quiet argument. The other man ran off, then came back a few moments later with a crown of blue flowers. The same winter roses Aegon had tossed her. Perfect.

With the flower crown in hand she passed the crowd, passed Ned Dayne, passed her family. She walked over to the only person that mattered with a grin plastered on her face.

Arya bit her lip. Then shook off her nervousness. _Who cares what they think. He's mine_. "May I?"

Gendry's grin grew wider. "I thought you'd never ask, m'lady." He knelt down before her, and she laid the crown on his head.

Gasps echoed across the field. Murmurs. Whispers.

Arya hated whispering. "I'm tired of hiding this."

Gendry nodded. Arya closed the space between them her arms around him, bringing his head down to hers.

She wouldn't let their relationship just be whispered as if some well kept secret. She wanted it shouted from towers. They were never quiet. Why should anyone else be quiet for them?

She smirked into their kiss. No one would ever doubt any longer that he was hers. And she was his.

* * *

 **I absolutely loved writing this one. Until next time!**

 ***whispercommentwhisper***


	5. Chapter 5: Laughter

**Been at a softball tournament all weekend with the sis, but I'm posting back to back.**

 **Here's Laughter, Command to follow**

* * *

Gendry

Laughter was a huge part of their relationship, Gendry realized. It was a unsaid goal of every moment to make the other burst into a fit of giggles. At least, Arya would giggle. Gendry, as a man, obviously did not _giggle_.

"Yeah, you do," Arya pointed out. "You squeal like a little girl."

"I do not!" he protested. "When have I ever-"

"Just last night, stupid." When he gave her a blank look, she went into detail. "When we were watching Mean Girls."

He felt his neck flush. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie about that? You embarrassed me along with you," she replied with a grin. "Sansa was in tears when I told her-"

"You told her?" he spluttered, coughing up some of the coke he was drinking.

"Well, did you think I would keep it to myself? I'm not a quiet person. . ."

Gendry glared at her. "Doesn't mean you have to tell her I liked Mean Girls."

Arya stared back, disbelieving. "You laugh like a child being tickled, and you're worried about my sister knowing that you have a decent taste in movies." She rolled her eyes at him, then shifted closer on the couch to him.

His apartment had recently gotten more furniture, on Arya's insistence. Before he had a single chair, a small coffee table, and a TV in his living room. After a lot of arguing, Gendry reluctantly let Arya buy some things, since she was basically living their anyway. Some things turned into rearranging his whole apartment, including help from Sansa the fashionista. Now _that_ was a nightmare.

"I still don't laugh like that," Gendry muttered, wrapping an arm around her casually. At the beginning of their relationship she would have pushed him away. Now she cuddled into his side.

"Don't deny your true you," she said solemnly, as if some wise old person. "Embrace it."

"I won't embrace fiction," he retorted.

She poked him in the side playfully. "You're hugging me and I was in your dreams," she teased.

 _That's true enough_. "That's different."

She looked up at him smirking. "So you're saying if I get proof. . ." Her hands shifted.

Gendry's eyes widened. He attempted to pull away from her, shifting away on the couch. "Don't you dare-"

"Do what?"

Her body lunged towards him, quicker than he could ever be. They struggled for a moment, Arya attempting to pin him into the arm of the loveseat.

" _Ow_! What the hell, Arya, get off-" She started tickling his sides and Gendry bit his lip in an effort to stop his laugh from rising. It didn't work.

Arya grinned wider, straddling his waist, and threw her arms up in triumph. "Told you so, stupid!"

Gendry glared up at her, but couldn't keep it up. His hands went up to hold her sides. "Of course, you're always right, m'lady."

She laughed and he joined her. Whiich made his body react.

Arya stopped and looked back down at him, biting her lip. "Maybe you only do it when I'm tickling you." One of her hands trailed up his chest.

He breathed out some air he didn't know he was holding. Her hands curled into his hair, bringing him up to meet her lips. "Maybe," he murmured when they parted for a second, then rushed back in. "Maybe I like it when you laugh like a little girl."

She broke off the kiss quickly, staring at him. "When do I?"

Gendry grinned devilishly. "Let me show you."

The next half hour they chased each other around the apartment, probably pissing off the neighbors with the thuds from one tackling the other to the ground. They were both laughing the whole time, so much that Gendry had to take a few moments to catch his breath, holding his sides and allowing Arya an opening. He knew he would have bruises in the morning, and so would she. But that didn't matter to either of them. This was a daily occurrence in their relationship. And honestly, no matter how cheesy it might sound, Gendry wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 **Short but adorable. Sorry, but I'm trying to get back a little.**

 **R & R, bruhs**


	6. Chapter 6: Command 1

**Second chapter, because guilt is a real thing for me**

 **Day 6-Command**

* * *

Gendry

The Battlefield laid out below Gendry, showing their enemies in the field below. They had posted their army on the hills surrounding, claiming the high ground as their opponents moved in against them.

Arya stood and gazed down at the thousands of men standing below her. The fierce look on her face, in Gendry's opinion, would be enough to send the enemy away screaming. Unfortunately for them, wights and White Walkers were their opponents.

Her light armor blended with the snowy background, a direwolf posed in attacking stance on her left shoulder. No shield or helm to speak of. The lack of protection scared Gendry, but he'd seen her fight at King's Landing, and knew that she could handle herself well, better than most men here.

She gestured to the field behind her, where an army of undead was advancing. "Winter has finally come, brothers," she proclaimed. "And the dead with it."

A ripple went through their ranks. Gendry could feel the fear in the air. Most of the men had fought in the War of the Five Kings, and then the War of Queens after that. But none of them had been this far north. None had seen the dead rise again.

"If they pass us, they march on White Harbor. They will then flood the Neck and flank Winterfell." She paced across the hill, armor flashing. "Your king has order us to hold this ground. But I will not ask you to do this for him. I ask you to do this for your people.

"The Others will not stop with taking down our armies. They will slaughter and butcher everything in their path from here to the shores of Dorne. Today we decide the fate of Westeros."

Arya looked around, eyes flashing. "Will you let them take our homes?" A shout when up in denial. "Take our families and children?" Louder this time. "Will you let the dead take everything you love?" Thundering. "Yes, my friends, Winter has come." She paused, meeting the eyes of the soldiers. Her eyes paused on Gendry. " _Will you let it come any farther_?"

The army roared, slamming shields and swords. Arya turned, cloak billowing out behind her. Her hair shined in deep contrast to her armor and the gray and white background of sky and fields. She was striking. Fierce. Beautiful, although he could never say that to her. Not out loud. It would ruin everything, their friendship, all he had worked for. He would only ever be a bastard in her eyes.

She unsheathed her sword. The Valyrian steel rippled. It was a given to her by King Jon, named Longclaw, after he received Lightbringer.

She charged. " _Winterfell!_ " she yelled. They charged with her, joining their battle cry's with hers. Gendry surged forward, falling in beside her. He would follow her anywhere. He wasn't letting the she-wolf get away from him again.

* * *

 **This was more of a Tumblr post than a fanfiction thing, but I'm going to write another one for Command anyways. Just wanted to make up for my absence, so thanks for reading me peeps!**

 **Some people play D &D, but I prefer R&R :P**


	7. Chapter 7: Command 2

**Sorry about the late update, was being an ass, wouldn't let me submit my doc. But anyways**

 **Command 2, because who doesn't want a second one? Had the idea, went with it, turned out ehhhhhhhh**

 **AU, real world**

* * *

Gendry

When Arya decided she was in control, it meant that she was in control. No buts about it. Even if Gendry _wanted_ to argue, Arya always got her way in the end.

* * *

"Come on," Arya shouted at Gendry. "Just have some fun for once!"

"You act like I don't have a job."

She leaned back in the desk. "You don't work on weekends."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. You act like I don't have a job, homework, and a life."

"Well then come have a life with us!" She waved her hand frantically. "Hot Pie and Lommy are heading out as well. I haven't gotten to go to the beach since I've gotten here."

Gendry huffed. "My goal in life was to hang out with a bunch of freshmen and sophmores." _Why do I cave this easily for her?_ He slammed his hand on the desk. "When?"

* * *

Their glares bored into each other.

"No."

"Yes."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are, stupid!"

"Arya, I don't even own a tux."

She rolled her eyes at that. "That's why you rent one."

He glared back. "Maybe that's an option for you rich people but that doesn't mean I have money falling out of my ass like Tywin Lannister."

Arya bit her lip. "You know I could get it for-"

Gendry stared her down harder. "I'm not going to let you do that for me."

"Well my mother insists that I go because it's my senior year. I'm not going to prom alone." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Isn't Hot Pie going?"

"Nope, didn't want to."

"What about Lommy?"

"He graduated last year, get with it."

"And Weasel?" he asked desperately.

"Couldn't find a date." She looked up at him. "I'll get you the suit, I'm making you go anyway."

"I haven't even decided," he argued, already giving in. He would give her anything she wanted, and she knew. She just didn't know exactly how much she meant to him.

* * *

Arya swatted his arm. "Calm down," she commanded. "My parents already know you."

"They knew me as a friend, not as a boyfriend." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I've never done that before. Meet the parents, I mean."

Arya's eyes turned darker. Gendry realized his misstep and corrected immediately. "None of my other girlfriends ever meant as much as you though."

Her expression softened a bit. "Then it's agreed." It wasn't a question.

Gendry looked up at the sky, wondering how he got himself into these things. Then he looked back at her and wondered how he ever got her.

"Fuck me," he cursed, then hesitantly nodded his head. Arya's grin was worth meeting her parents a hundred times over.

* * *

Gendry grabbed her waist and turned her over, pushing her into the bed and supporting himself above her. Arya's grip on his shoulder turned harsher, more painful. Her moth was rougher against his. Gendry trailed his kisses down, to her chin, her neck, her collarbone, towards her bare chest-

" _Ow!_ " Gendry yelled, pushing up and away. One of his hands shot up to his ear.

Arya glared up at him accusingly. "I said that I wanted to be on top."

"So you bite me?" He matched her gaze with the same intensity. "Fuck, Arya, that hurt like hell!"

"I hope it did." She pushed his shoulder over, tipping him to the side so that she could straddle his waist again. "I meant it to, stupid." With that she grabbed his arms, pressing them to the bed and leaning down for another kiss. Gendry thought about protesting again until she bit his lip and made him groan deep in his throat.

Then he realized that maybe letting her take over wasn't all that bad.

* * *

"I don't want some huge wedding."

"Tell that to your mother, not me."

Arya looked at the dresses with distaste. "I don't want a thousand people there that I don't know."

"If you don't know a thousand of them," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "then I won't know two thousand."

Gendry saw her lips twitch, but then her eyes refocused on the dresses before her. The ones that Sansa and Catelyn said looked best on her when they went dress shopping before.

"They're going to insist on a dress no matter what, though," Gendry said matter of factly.

She frowned. "I know they are. But I just want family there." She turned and faced him. Gendry would rather marry her in that white tank top and sweat pants. Go elope and get it all over with. But her family had some conditions and Gendry wasn't going to disobey them and become the least favorite brother-in-law and son-in-law. Sandor would be hard to beat in that one, but failing to have a real wedding would put Gendry in the running.

"I know," Arya sighed, exasperated. "But I'm not inviting half the world to this thing. Sansa and Robb did that for theirs, but that doesn't mean all the Starks do."

Gendry pulled her close and smiled into her hair. "One problem at a time, m'lady. I'm sure you'll find a way out of your mother's guest list."

Arya turned and grinned up at him deviously. "You bet your ass I can."

* * *

"Gendry?"

"Yes, love?" he said teasingly, looking up from the kitchen stove at his wife.

"You know when you insisted on wearing that condom when I was off the pill?"

"And you insisted that I quit being a pussy?" He nodded. "I seem to remember some of that."

"Well maybe you were right." Arya's voice sounded small.

Gendry stared at her uncomprehendingly. Then he saw the thing she was holding. His jaw dropped.

Arya bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry. She looked down at the ground and started speaking quickly, rushing out the words as if they were forcing themselves out. "I know were not ready and I know that this can't happen right now so I can go to the clinic and-"

Pancakes be damned, Gendry abandoned the skillet on the stove and quickly scooped her up in his arms. She gasped as her feet left the ground, but bent her head into his shoulder automatically.

Gendry's mind was buzzing. His legs felt numb. But he knew what she meant. He knew what she was suggesting. He also knew the only reason she was saying it was because she thought he would be mad.

"Fuck it if we're not ready, Arya," he whispered in her ear, then pulled back to look at her face. Tears had already dripped onto his bare shoulder. "I don't care about that. What I care about is you." He set her down onto the floor again, looking down at her stomach. "And little baby Arya."

She sniffled a little, meeting his eyes again. They were full of anxiety. Worry. "But-"

"But nothing." He bent down, kissing her fiercely. "She's ours."

He could feel her stiffen. Gendry knew that her dream of the future never really contained motherhood. She was only twenty two, her whole life ahead of her. But he also knew she would regret making this decision for the rest of her life, and he could never let that happen to her.

He deepened the kiss, taking all the tenseness out of her. She kissed him back, and he could feel a small smile forming.

They parted to catch their breath, but Gendry kept his head close to hers, foreheads touching.

Arya's grin was visible now. "So now you're assuming gender of our child?"

 _Our child_. Gendry didn't think there were any sweeter words. Except maybe what she was moaning that night without the condom. "I think I can picture a little you running around better than a little me."

"I think a little you would be adorable," she retorted playfully. Her smile was infectious.

Gendry rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Maybe you were right, for once."

"About what?"

"About no condom."

* * *

"Ned, get the hell back here!"

Gendry chased him all around the living room of the new house. Boxes were stacked along the walls, ready to be unpacked. But that was the least of his problems.

Arya walked in from the hallway. "What the hell is going on?"

Gendry stopped as Ned ran into the kitchen. "He's your son," he accused.

She narrowed her eyes. "What'd he do this time?"

"He won't change into pajamas," Gendry explained.

Arya huffed. "You need to assert yourself better," she told him. Then she put her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, as if hailing a taxi.

Ned popped around the corner, grinning like a mad man. Gendry swore he looked like a young Rickon when smiled. It was the mark of a troublemaker.

"Get in your PJ's, step to soldier!" Arya yelled in her best military voice.

Their son saluted her, and marched off to his room, closing the door behind him.

Gendry stared after him, astonished. Arya walked over and closed his mouth with a hand below his jaw. "That's how you catch flies," she teased.

"The only reason he listens to you is because you act like a four year old yourself," Gendry explained.

She grinned back cheekily. "Says the man who was running around like a bear was chasing ya."

He flushed and she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in close.

* * *

"Why?" Gendry asked, breathing heavily.

Arya smiled back. "Did you really think I was going to let you die?"

"I was put on the donor list, you didn't have to-"

"Those damn things could take years. Bran was on it forever for a heart transplant. I wasn't going to sit here and watch you die."

"That didn't mean you had to give up a lung!"

Arya squinted up at him from the hospital bed. "You wouldn't have stopped me."

She had him on that. Anything she set her mind to, she did. She was a force of nature. It wasn't as if he could ask a tornado to stop spinning. But being in love with a natural disaster was quite. . . haphazardly.

Gendry sighed. Then realized he could only sigh because of her.

"They said I was a match. You got lucky. Stop pushing it, stupid. Now you owe me." She looked at him expectantly.

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

She frowned at him. "I had a little more in mind."

Gendry laughed openly at that. "Get better, then we'll talk."

She nodded seriously. "We'll do more than talk."

* * *

Nothing would make Gendry happier than a quiet day at home.

He couldn't sit. He couldn't sleep. All he could do was pace around the hospital, wondering if his wife was alive or not.

Ned was sitting in a chair, head in his hands. Bessie was on the phone, talking to her Aunt Sansa about what had happened. About the mugger. About the gunshot to her stomach. About her bleeding out on the ground as Gendry held her, waiting for police and an ambulance to arrive.

He kept pacing.

The doctor finally came out, wrinkles in his forehead. Gendry basically jumped him. "What's going on? Is she alright? Can I see her?"

The doctor hesitated. "She's alright at the moment. She suffered from some major internal bleeding, but we think it has stopped."

" _Think_?" he asked, feeling anger rising. "You _think_ she's alright?"

Bessie put a hand on his shoulder and he felt the fury pass. "Can we see her?"

The doctor nodded, then gestured for them to follow.

The slow pace the man set as he walked through the hallway set Gendry's teeth on edge. How the hell could he stay so leisurely as his wife lay almost dying?

The doctor finally stopped at a door. "In here."

Gendry shoved past him, all but barreling into the room. On the bed inside laid his wife, hooked up to two machines with five different wires and tubes.

He felt like collapsing from exhaustion. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to cry. Instead he all but ran to the bedside and grabbed Arya's hand.

"God dammit, Arya," he muttered. "Why do you have to be so stubborn sometimes?"

Her eyes remained closed, not responding. The beeping stayed steady. He timed his breathing to those notes, trying to stay calm. He slowly sank in the chair beside her bed.

He heard Bessie gasp behind him. She had never seen her mother like this before. She had only been seven months when Gendry's lungs failed, and Arya had been perfectly healthy since.

He heard Ned calming her. In his younger years he had been as wild as Arya, but after hitting seventeen he mellowed out, becoming wiser and more knowledgeable as his namesake. He had Gendry's unruly hair and his eyes, the true look of a Baratheon. Bessie was more like her mother, except for the Tully red of her hair.

Gendry looked back at them now, forcing a small smile. He was positive it didn't make them feel any better. For the love of God, this was Arya's area of expertise, but that usually consists of a lot of poking and some shitty one liners and jokes.

"Your mother's strong," he said, stating the obvious. "If anyone can survive this, she can."

He turned away from them, blinking away hot tears. It was all his fucking fault. If he had just pushed her out of the way fast enough. . .

"Dad," Ned said, resting a hand on his father's shoulder. "It's not your fault. Mom decided to do this."

Gendry didn't respond, closing his eyes. He could still see her body diving over, crossing in front of his. The thief had shifted his gun from her to him. She wouldn't allow anyone to threaten him. Except her.

"That bastard will be locked away for a long time," Bessie reasoned. Gendry could practically hear the tears in her voice. "And Mom will wake up. Everything will be fine."

"Of course it will." Gendry looked up at them from the chair. "She'll just tell death to fuck off, and it'll have to listen. She's the most annoying, infuriating, and persuasive person I've ever met."

* * *

Arya straightened his tie. Gendry gulped loudly. It wasn't every day your daughter got married.

"Don't trip down the aisle," she advised him. "I'm sure that Bessie doesn't want you to ruin her big day for her."

He glared at her. "Thanks, now I'm guaranteed to do that."

She grinned back up at him as if he had complimented her hair. Or at least as if a boy had complimented a girl. Whenever he did compliment her in any way she would hit him. Go figure.

"Just relax." She put her hands on his shoulders, immediately calming his nerves.

"You haven't led me wrong yet," he replied, kissing her forehead quickly. "I'm inclined to listen to you."

"That's always a good idea," she mumbled into his neck. The only reason she could reach that high was because of her two inch heels, the ones that put her a little taller than her daughter, who had inherited the Baratheon height.

He breathed in the scent of her hair. "Mhmm." Gendry knew that even if she wasn't right, he would listen. It wasn't because he was whipped (even though that's what Robb, Theon, and now Sandor said at every get together, to which he replied with how every one of them practically had a collar around their necks), it was because she made everything seem so obvious, so _right_ , that even when things did go wrong she could always fix them. And he would always be by her side to make sure he could help her.

He nodded towards the doors in front of them, leading to the dressing rooms. "Shall we, m'lady?"

She slapped his arm, laughing, but then took it anyway. "We shall, m'lord."

They walked through the door and out into yet another adventure.

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 **Coutdn't find a good ending, sue me. I didn't want to be writing this for the rest of my life, especially when I still have to do 7, which is now two days late.**

 **Rate and Review por favor (Spanish class paying off right there)**


	8. Chapter 8: I Know Him

**When life decides to fuck you over.**

 **Sorry about how late it is, I got HP and the Cursed Child. Fangirls and their books, ya know?**

 **Anyways, here's a Gendrya reunion that is seriously my favorite thing in the whole world. Based off the TV Series.**

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Arya

Four years.

It had been four years since Arya had seen Gendry carted off by that fucking Red Woman.

Four years since she had truly smiled.

Four years that she had known her best friend was dead.

And now here he was, staring up those steps, not at the queen sitting on the Iron Throne, but at one of her advisers.

"And you are?" Daenerys asked, looking down at the kneeling man. And man he was, with his deep blue eyes that could pierce her soul and break her down to nothing but a little girl who had lost everything. Strong jawline and stubbled chin, making his face more defined. He wore clean clothes, not extravagant but fine, more highborn than low. He was no longer the orphan from Flee Bottom, or the boy on the run from but the goldcloaks.

"My name is Gendry, your Grace," he spoke, and his voice was deeper than she remembered. But Arya could still almost remember the tone that he used to annoy her. Memories flashed by in her head, the ones that the Kindly Man tried so hard to erase.

He had paused, eyes trained on Arya. "Gendry Baratheon."

Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. The court had broke out in hushed tones.

Tyrion Lannister spoke up, standing on the queen's right side. "All the Baratheons are dead."

"Not all of Robert's bastards died out with them," he replied, eyes now down, gazing at the floor.

Arya stared at him, trying to remember what Robert looked like, what his brothers did. It was so long ago. All the faces in her past were blurred, including her family's. Gendry's was one of the only left.

"Your Grace," she finally spoke, her voice steadier than she imagined it would. Both Dany's and Gendry's eyes shot to her. "I can vouch for him."

Murmurs broke out. Jorah Mormont looked over at her, distrusting. He still didn't forgive Arya's family for his exile. Tyrion's gaze was more intrigued. Theon's, puzzled. None of that mattered.

Daenerys looked over at her. "And why is that?" she asked.

"I know him." Those words rang deeper than she meant. She knew him better than most now, better than her brothers that she had fought with for years before the war. Better than her sister, whom she fought in a different way. Better than her mother, who yelled and sighed and nearly gave up on her. And better than her father, her idol, one of the only people who understood her. And Jon, the one she could always go to when she needed comfort, needed someone to rely on.

The court was still staring at Arya. Arya stared at Gendry. Gendry stared back.

Suddenly she marched down the steps. He rose from his knee, slowly, up and over her head by at least a foot.

"Baratheon?" she questioned angrily.

He gave her an unfocused gaze. "Yes, m'lady."

That nickname. She couldn't even fight it anymore, not after she joined Dany. She wasn't sure she wanted to fight it. Not from him.

After everything, him being here was too much. Not enough. She didn't know what to do. With her feelings, her emotions that clouded up her brain, making it hard to concentrate. She knew one outlet, though. And thankfully for it, her arm was longer than a foot.

She swung upward, hand clamped. Gendry stumbled backward, expression shocked.

His hand flew to his face. "What in seven hells was that for, Arry?" he practically yelled.

"That was for joining the Brotherhood," she yelled back, not caring about their audience, or the guards drawing swords, unsure whether to protect her or not.

With her left hand again she swung backwards, making it flat. It connected with his cheek. "And that's for trusting the Red Woman just because of her tits."

"I didn't really _trust_ her I just-"

She jabbed him in the gut, making his chest and head come down a little. "And that was for not trusting me."

He stared her right in the eyes, shocked but unwavering. "I deserved that one, I'll admit. But those other two I'll ask for a trial or something." Gendry reached up, wiping his nose, finding it bloody. "Well?" They stared at each other. "That it?"

"For now," she responded. They kept looking at each other for a few more seconds, which seemed eternity. Then she flung herself at him.

He waited a second, probably disbelieving, then returned the hug, chuckling in her ear. "Well I guess that could have gone worse, m'lady."

She shook her head into his shoulder. "I'm not nearly done yet, stupid."

Their embrace broke. Arya turned around, to face a bemused Tyrion, an angry Jorah, an even more confused Theon, a grinning Yara, and an expressionless Dany. Almost expressionless. Arya could see the hint of a smile working at the corners of her lips.

The queen looked at Gendry with an appraising glance. Then she focused back on Arya. "You know what it means to vouch for him?"

 _I didn't attend those ridiculous council meetings for nothing_ , she wanted to say. _What do you think?_ "I do."

Daenerys nodded. "Very well."

Jorah looked over at her. "Your Grace, the Baratheons usurped the throne from your family. Robert's brothers tried to do the same with his sons."

Dany set her gaze on one of her closest advisers, then back down at Gendry. "My father was mad. His father was too, in a way." She paused. "Luckily for both of us, our fathers do not choose the path we take. Take him to the east side of the castle, give him a room there." She nodded at Arya, a dismissal.

The younger girl broke into a grin. "As you command, my queen."

She turned and both her and Gendry strode out of the throne room.

After the guards closed the doors behind them, Gendry grabbed her arm and turned her towards him.

He was taller, taller than before. She hadn't grown as much as he apparently had. _Baratheon. Gendry Baratheon._ She still couldn't believe it. He was nothing like his father, the fat drunk king he was.

He looked like he had a million things to say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he finally settled on one. "What does it mean? To vouch for someone?"

She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. "It means that, if you mess up or you know, try to kill everyone here or something, I get killed with you."

His dark blue eyes widened yet again, eyebrows shooting up. "You'd die for me?"

"No, stupid." She shook her head, as if he was an idiot for ever thinking it. "I'd die _with_ you."

He kept looking at her for a second. A minute. Maybe a lifetime. She kept his gaze locked that whole time with her own. Then he grinned. And laughed, doubling over.

She kicked him in the shin. "What are you laughing for?" she yelled at him.

"You haven't changed a bit, m'lady," he said, still guffawing.

"Neither have you," she countered. It wasn't much of an insult.

He straightened, still smiling. A smile that she couldn't stay mad at. She matched his grin.

"Come on," Arya said, starting to walk again. "Let's get to your room before she changes her mind."

His face changed a little, guarded. "Does she do that often?" He tried to sound uncaring, and failed miserably. He was so easy to read.

"Only to people she doesn't like," Arya replied, grinning cheekily to herself.

He looked over and noticed it. He shoved her playfully. She shoved him back. She really did know him too well.

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 ***fangirl noises that sound like a dying whale* OTP**

 **Pretty sure this is it for the ship week, unless anyone has requests! Thanks for reading, comment below!**


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